


Dark Waltz

by skund



Category: DCU - Comicverse, The Authority
Genre: Community: intoabar, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-09
Updated: 2010-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skund/pseuds/skund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huntress meets Gotham's latest leather-clad vigilante. (Prompt: The Authority's Midnighter walks into a bar and meets DCU's Helena Bertinelli.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to cyclops_squid for the beta!

The bone gave way under her heel with a satisfying crunch. Her opponent stumbled back clutching his broken nose, as his accomplices circled around behind her. A chair swept through the air, she felt its breeze as she ducked just enough to let it sail harmlessly over her head. Thankfully, the less guilty patrons of this dive bar had fled as soon as the fight broke out. There were no innocents here, just three guilty men and the Huntress.

The chair-wielder swore loudly, over extended and vulnerable as he still clutched his impromptu weapon. Huntress used her crouched position to strike out at him with one leg, catching him just so on the side of his knee. He fell instantly, howling in pain and then silent as his head collided with the sticky floor.

The man with the broken nose came at her, bloodied fists sliding off her Kevlar armour. She caught one ineffective punch, reeled him in with a short tug on his arm and drove the heel of her other hand up into his chin. His head snapped back sharply and he slumped to the floor, eyes rolling back. He did not get up.

That left one, eyeing Huntress warily as he retreated closer to the wall. She feinted left around a large table and he took the opportunity to escape right, just like she knew he would. With a graceful jump Huntress propelled herself feet first across the table top, boots catching the crook straight in the gut. He staggered back but she had momentum and used it to collide with the staggering man, pushing him down. She folded her legs at the last second to land astride him, her impact knocking the air from his lungs. He gasped uselessly for a moment before her roundhouse punch drove him into unconsciousness.

Helena gracefully rose to her feet, shaking broken glass from her cape. She wrinkled her nose as the fabric stuck wetly to the back of her calves, stinking of cheap beer. She desperately wanted a wash; everything about this filthy, ex-con bar made her feel soiled. She picked her way through the broken glass and furniture on the floor, zip stripping the hands and feet of her three fallen opponents as she went. She could hear Oracle's computer-masked voice through the open line in her earpiece calling the GCPD with an "anonymous tip" to pick up the unconscious men. The only other sounds were their broken breathing and the night time cadence of the city outside.

A shadow moved.

Huntress was instantly alert, crouched low and prepared for a fight. The darkness in the far corner resolved into a leather clad man, shrouded in a long coat. A mask concealed the upper portion of his face, and gloves covered his hands. One of her kind then? But not anyone she knew. She relaxed, but only slightly.

"Nice work," the stranger growled, voice soft but rough.

"Thanks," Huntress replied, noncommittal. She eyed him up and down conspicuously, making her appraisal obvious. "You could have helped," she added, but it was more question than statement. _Whose side are you on?_

The man smirked. His hands were hidden deep in the pockets of his coat. "You didn't need it."

Helena tilted her head slightly. "True." She couldn't keep the hint of amusement out of her voice. She made a show of eyeing him over again. The cowl, the stoic attitude, the leather overdose... the resemblance to Batman was obvious.

"You're missing some pointy ears if you want to pass for _him_ ," she teased.

He seemed momentarily confused, then shrugged one shoulder like he couldn't care less.

"Who are you?" Helena demanded. "I've never seen you before."

"I'm kinda new around here," the man growled in reply. He moved to the right and Helena dropped back into an attack stance. He froze and held up his hands passively, before continuing to the bar and pouring himself a drink. He offered here one with a silent tilt of the bottle. She shook her head.

"Where did you come from? And what do you want with Gotham?" She asked. This encounter was getting stranger by the second. She could feel Oracle's confusion mirroring her own down the silent tension in the comlink. The fact that Oracle hadn't piped up with any information on this mysterious character made things even more disturbing. The Oracle knew all.

He seemed to sense her discomfort, watching her carefully with dark golden eyes as he drained the tumbler and set it deliberately on the bar.

"Look," he started, "as I said, I'm just new here. I was doing some recon earlier tonight when I stumbled across these three gentlemen," he spat the word while indicating at the immobile men behind her, "and decided I was going to have a little talk with them about their activities when you beat me to the punch. Literally." He fell into silence with a sense of finality, like he'd just finished a speech. Given his silent demeanor so far, maybe he had.

"You know what they were up to?"

The man grunted. "Peddling kiddie porn. Don't hold much truck with that."

Helena felt herself smile. She could well come to like this gruff vigilante. "In that case, I think we might have some common goals." She straightened up, almost considered offering her hand but it felt awkward to do so wearing masks and other men's blood on your hands. "My name is-" A squeal of breaks interrupted her, and the bar was filled with blue and red flashing light. "-Huntress."

The room was empty. The man had disappeared, only the dirty glass on the bar even proved he'd been there at all.

"Like I haven't seen that trick before," Helena signed as she slipped out the back door herself, readying her grappling gun. She heard the police burst in the front door just as her hook caught on the ledge above, drawing her up to the rooftop. Once safely above she leant against the high ledge, resetting her grapple and listening to the proceedings below.

"Midnighter," the shadow next to the air conditioning tower growled. She started and dropped her hook, which fell to the ground with a thud. The shadow smirked. "It was a pleasure, Huntress."

He stepped behind the metal tower and she heard his boots running across the gravel roof, then silence. He was gone by the time she made it round the tower, and she saw nothing when she leaned over the edge where he must have jumped, except the briefest hit of gold light disappearing around a corner.

Huntress growled under her breath as she took a swipe at the ledge in frustration. Like this city needed another talk, dark and brooding vigilante.


End file.
